


Blessed are those whom the moon shines upon, Despaired are those who take it for granted

by Bakusquad101



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Adventurous Frodo, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, By Elf standers at least, Caring Thranduil, F/M, He never was one, Hobbits must be protected, Hungry Bilbo Baggins, Hurt Bilbo Baggins, Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Dwarves, Protective Elves, Protective Thorin, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Legolas, Sneaky Bilbo Baggins, Sweet Frodo, Tauriel doesn't betray Thranduil, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, Thranduil spoils the ones he loves, Young Frodo Baggins, caring legolas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28450401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakusquad101/pseuds/Bakusquad101
Summary: What if The Company didn't have to escape Mirkwood? What if Thorin never went Gold crazed. What if Kili, Fili, and Thorin survived? Follow Bilbo on his journey through Middle Earth to help the Dwarves reclaim their home in Erebor.(This is my retailing of The Hobbit. I own nothing but my version of the plot of the story. Any characters, places, and the original Plot of the story belong to J. R. R. Tolkein)
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Frodo Baggins & Sam Gamgee, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	1. Preview

Bilbo sighed as the rising sun cast a soft, golden light over the green trees of the Greenwood forest. It was early in the morning, most elvlings would still be in bed dreaming about running through the soft grass of the forest, jumping and laughing as they weaved and chased each other through the trees. Peace washed over Bilbo as he watched butterflies fly from the forest as the woodpeckers and songbirds, and ravens started their morning song of pecking, chirping, and flapping their wings. That was one of the things Bilbo cherished about Greenwood. While every now and then he missed his home in the Shire, it never had a view like this. A knocking on the door drew Biblo out of his reminiscing.

“Come in,” Bilbo called out. The door creaked a little as a mop of curly black hair appeared from behind the door, along with a pair of blue eyes. Bilbo’s smile grew as Frodo walked in, closing the door gently behind him. He was wrapped in pale blue Elven robes, courtesy of the head seamstress. A silver circlet with sapphire and amethyst gems sat on his head. “Hello Da,” Frodo said. Bilbo felt warmth spread through his heart when Frodo greeted him. Bilbo will admit he cried into Thranduil’s arms when Frodo started calling him Da instead of Uncle. Bilbo already thought of Frodo as a son, and for him to think of him as a father figure made his heart swell every time he thought of it.

“Good morning Frodo,” Bilbo responded happily. “What brings you here?” Frodo fake scoffed, looking around the room as he chuckled a bit. “I just wanted to spend some time with you,” Frodo said, picking at his nails. His shoulders were drawn back, tense, and rigid.

'𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,' Bilbo thought. He knew his son well enough to recognize the tell-tale signs of how he feels. Bilbo chuckled, watching as his son's shoulders fell at the light-hearted sound. Bilbo moved swiftly across the floor, his feet silebt as most hobbits are. He gently grasped his son's shoulder with one hand, bringing the other up to move the curls out of his eyes. Frodo leaned into the touch, smiling up at Bilbo. He was still very young, only Twenty-three. Still a child in Elven eyes.

“Frodo, I’m your Da. I know that when you want to spend time with me you wait for me at breakfast or in the library,” Bilbo said, trying not to laugh as Frodo looked down to the ground, Similar to a fauntling who was caught with his hand in the Chelvic jar. “I’ll ask again. What do you need?” Frodo looked back at Bilbo, silently taking a deep breath. “I was wanting to know if Legolas could take me to the forest to teach me how to shoot a bow,” Frodo rushed.

It took Bilbo a second to distinguish what he said before his smile grew. Legolas had come to Thranduil last night asking the same thing. Thranduil said it was up to Bilbo, and the next thing Bilbo knew he had two sets of puppy dog eyes begging him to let them go. He decided to joke and say that he’d think about it even though he already made up his mind. Legolas had been so excited when he became Frodo’s big brother. He never had any siblings, and while he had Tauriel, he longed to be able to take care of a younger brother or sister of his. So when his chance to have that with Frodo came along, he could barely contain his joy. Bilbo knew that Legolas was a highly trained warrior, and would protect Frodo with every ounce of his body. And with the forest back to its beautiful state of flourishing flowers and fresh fruits, he knew that there was no reason to object. Not with all the terrible creatures that once ruled the forest gone for good.

“Well, I don’t know Frodo. It could be very dangerous,” Bilbo joked. He braced himself for what happened next. Frodo put on his best puppy dog eyes, clasping his hands in front of him. “Please Da! I promise Legolas and I will be careful!” he begged. Biblo looked away as he pretended to mull it over. “Please! You let Neveras go out with Uncle Oin and Uncle Dwalin before.” Frodo pleaded. Bilbo scoffed as he remembered how that trip went. Neveras was Tauriel and Kili’s daughter, who was as headstrong as her mother and as playful as her father. Tauriel left her with Bilbo and Thranduil before as they had to ride to Rivendale and couldn’t take her with them. Neveras had been devastated as they left, so Dwalin and Oin offered to take her with them as they went hunting in the forest for the annual feast in Erebor. After reluctantly agreeing, Bilbo let Neveras go with them. They came back two days later with scratches and cuts all over. The wild beast they caught had put up a strong fight apparently.

“Your uncles are lovable idiots who have no preservation skills. Tauriel and Kili about had a heart attack once they returned to find your cousin in the medical wing,” Biblo said, rolling his eyes. Frodo whimpered, looking down as he gave up on begging. Biblo gently sighed, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, you can go,” Bilbo said, trying to hide his smile at his son’s cheer. “But you must be very careful. If you come back and have to go see Healer Lugenbard because you were being reckless, I won’t let you go back to hunt for three months.”

Bilbo stumbled a bit as Fordo threw himself into his Da’s arms shouting thank you’s. Frodo turned and ran to the door, grabbing the handle and throwing the door open before Bilbo called out to him once more. “Oh, and make sure you tell your Ada where you two are going.”

Frodo groaned as he turned around to see his Da smirking at him. “But Da, you know how Ada is. He’ll fret over me more than you! We won’t be able to leave till noon at that point,” he said. “Frodo, you and I both know he just worries over your safety. You can barely lift a sword, let alone fight off an enemy.” Bilbo responded. Frodo looked down as a small smile graced his lips. It was true, he knew Ada just worried, and Frodo found it heartwarming how much he cared but it can get a bit much. “Fine Da. I’ll let Ada know before we leave. Love you,” Frodo said, looking back at Bilbo. “I love you too,” Bilbo said. Frodo turned back around, shutting the door softly behind him.

Biblo turned around a few seconds later, glancing back out the window. The sun was above the trees now, shining down on the bright green canopy of leaves. Looking away, Bilbo walked over to the desk at the corner of the room. Pulling the chair out, Bilbo hopped up a bit, landing on the chair. He grabbed his quill out of the ink, setting a new piece of parchment on the desk. Dipping the quill, Bilbo thought for a minute before writing.

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲”


	2. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend visits Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late post. Last night was busy, and I fell asleep before I could finish this chapter. But it's here now, so Enjoy!

Bibo sighed gently as he blew out a ring of smoke. It was truly a beautiful day in the Shire. Bees buzzed around his flower bushes, pollinating his prized tulips and petunias. A gentle breeze flowed through the air, cooling the effects of the hot sun. The sound of children laughing drifted through the wind, in and out of the homes of farmers and gardeners, making the day that much nicer. Biblo closed his eyes, enjoying the luxury of living in Hobbiton.

A shadow fell upon Biblo, blocking the sun as the smell of smoke from a pipe, not of his own, filled the air around him. Bilbo opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on the silver fabric in front of him, trailing up as he met the eyes of an old man. His neck craned at the awkward stretch as the man glanced down at him. He was the tallest man he had seen in all his years on middle-earth, even taller than the men he had seen in Bree. He had old eyes, looking down at Bilbo with a gentle smile. A pipe was hanging between his lips as he leaned on what looked like a wooden staff. ‘𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳,’ Bilbo thought.

“Good morning,” Bilbo said, confused on why this man was just staring at him. The man took the pipe out of his mouth, standing there silently. “What do you mean?” asked the man, “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?” Looking down silently, Bilbo sat for a second, stumped. He had never gotten a response quite like that. “All of them, I guess,” Biblo responded, looking back up. The man just smiled at him. “Then yes, it is.”

Biblo tilted his head slightly, trying to grasp an understanding of the before man. “Excuse me, but can I help you?” Bilbo asked. The man placed his pipe between his teeth, humming gently. “That remains unseen,” he murmured. Bilbo’s brow furrowed slightly as his ears twitched slightly, barely catching what the man said. “Do you remember me?” the man asked. Biblo stammered quietly, wracking his brain for a name, or at the very least, a place where he might have met this man before. His brain seemed very desultory at the moment though, making it difficult. The said man leaned more onto his cane, raising an eyebrow as he patiently awaited Bilbo’s response, '𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦,’ Biblo thought as he stared at the man, trying to place a name to his face. '𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵,’ Biblo thought, 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘵.’

Biblo gasped as he remembered. Flashes of his childhood sped through his mind. One specific one remained in his mind. Back when his mother and father were still there with him, they took him to the party tree where everyone there was celebrating his cousin Lolita’s fifteenth birthday. He was dancing with his friend when suddenly there was a loud bang behind him, followed by an explosion of bright light. He looked up into the sky to see the night painted with bright blues and greens. Biblo turned around, trying to see where it came from. His eyes landed on his mother and father talking to a man he did not know. The three of them were chuckling at the fauntlings’ reaction as they gawked at the fireworks. His father’s eyes strayed to him, and his smile grew wider at what must have been wonder etched on his son’s face. He turned back to his mother and the stranger, whispering gently to them. His mother turned to him slightly, her smile growing wider as the man turned around and reached into the cart behind him. 

Bilbo's face scrunched slightly as he moved his head to try and see what the man pulled from the cart. A faint sizzling reached his ears before a loud boom sounded from behind the man. Biblo gasped, flinching back slightly as a ball of light shot up into the sky, before scattering into a thousand lights. They swirled with each other before falling back down towards them. That is when he noticed the lights were in the shapes of butterflies, flapping their wings as they weaved in between the dancers. His eyes locked onto one as it fluttered towards him. He held out his hand, smiling wide as it landed on his hand before dissolving into the air. He looked back to his parents to see them staring at him, his father’s arm around his mother’s waist as she held his shoulder. They were laughing slightly as the man beside them turned back around, tipping his hat to Bilbo. A tap on his shoulder drew him back to his friend who drew him back to the middle of the party with the rest of the dancers. Later, his parents told him that the man setting off the fireworks was an old friend of his mother’s. He was the Gandalf the Grey

The flashback left as soon as it came. Bilbo’s eyes focused back on the man, who was staring at him amused. “Gandalf!” Bilbo gasped out, tapping out his pipe as he stood up. Gandalf chuckled, leaning down a bit as Bilbo opened the gate to hug him. “It’s been far too long, Bilbo my boy,” Gandalf stated, returning the embrace himself. Bilbo sighed as the scent of warm vanilla and Old Toby filled his nose. It reminded him of his fauntling years when his father taught him conkers, and when his mother taught him to wield a sword. Back when the only thing he worried about was keeping his elven-made toy boy away from his cousin Lobelia’s sticky fingers. He released Gandalf, smiling as he took a step back. “Wait, hang on,” Bilbo said, his smile replaced by a small scowl. Biblo smacked Gandalf’s robes as the wizard stood there slightly confused and deeply amused as the small hobbit tried to reach higher than Gandalf’s stomach. “You left a long time ago for an adventure, promising to be back soon. It’s been years! Where were you?” Bilbo demanded.

If he was honest, he felt a tad hurt. Gandalf spent many years telling Bilbo stories of his adventures and promising to take him on one when he was older. Now that he has grown, Bilbo knows that no respectable Hobbit would dream of leaving home to explore the world, and he is a Baggins. They are very respectable, thank you very much. But some nights, when the loneliness strikes once more and his smial feels too big and too small at the same time, he likes to imagine leaving Hobbiton just for a bit. Living life like his mother did before meeting his father.

Gandalf sighed, deep and heavy, as he looked behind him to the other homes below Bag End. “I know, my boy. I truly had intended for my mission to be a few weeks at most, but a wizard council was held of the utmost importance,” Gandalf said. His eyes widened slightly as he turned back around to Bilbo. The Hobbit’s eyes were blown wide, worry, and fear present in them. “Not to worry, Biblo, as the matter is being taken care of,” Gandalf reassured. Bilbo looked skeptical but did not comment.

“Gandalf, you said earlier that the answer to my question earlier remained unseen. If I may ask, why is that?” Bilbo questioned. He was very joyful at the return of Gandalf, make no doubt about that, but the wizard appeared to have a bigger motive than to catch up with the child of a deceased friend of his. Gandalf exhaled gustly, turning back around to look at the Shire once more, before walking through the garden gate. “Perhaps, we should discuss this inside,” he whispered gently. Biblo glanced behind Gandalf, seeing one of his neighbors glancing out the window at the two of them. Bilbo nodded at Gandalf, turning around to lead the wizard into his home.

“Please ignore the mess,” Bilbo started, taking the wizard’s staff and hat. He turned around as Gandalf walked further into the house, hanging the wizard’s hat on the hook and setting the staff gently by the door. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit,” he finished. He rushed to the kitchen, lighting a fire before hanging the kettle on the bar above it. While Gandalf might be an unexpected guest, Bilbo wasn’t going to let that deter him from being a respectable host. He was a Baggins after all.

But let it be known that Bilbo has a bit more Took in him than what most give him credit for. So while what happened next would make his father and any other respectable hobbit pale in horror, his mother and any Took at that would have keeled over laughing. Bilbo picked up the cups of hot water he poured into his mother’s old tea set she was gifted from Lord Elrond, making a mental note to ask what tea Gandalf preferred when a loud band came from his hallway, followed by Gandalf cursing in fast Sindarin. Rushing into the hallway, Bilbo froze at the scene in front of him. The boiling water splashed in the cups as Bilbo’s shoulders shook. He carefully sat the cups down on the desk along the wall as to not burn himself as he raised his hands to his mouth, trying and failing to not snicker.

Gandalf was sitting on the floor, glaring up at the chandelier in distaste as light swung side to side. He held the side of his forehead gently, wincing a bit as he felt around for blood. Thankfully finding no busted or cracked skin, Gandalf started to carefully stand up. Finally catching his bearings, Bilbo rushed over to help Gandalf, walking him into the living room. Once the man was seated comfortably in the armchair, Bilbo rushed back to get the teacups before the water cooled too much. He handed one to Gandalf before going back to the kitchen to retrieve two bags of chamomile. 

Bilbo placed a tea bag in his and Gandalf’s cups as he sat on the sofa a little bit away. “Alright Gandalf, what is so important that you had to come out here for?” Bilbo demanded. Gandalf didn’t answer, instead choosing to lean back in the armchair while taking his time to sip his tea calmly. Well, that’s all right with Bilbo. Hobbits are very patient. Many spend years waiting for their crops to grow, or months teaching fauntlings conkers, or days trimming and de-weeding their flower gardens. He is patient, he can wait.

Bilbo slowly drank his tea himself as Gandalf cleared his throat. “How would you like an adventure?” Gandalf asked. That was...not what he was expecting. A Baggins on an adventure? Now that would be a sight to see. He would lose all respect of his former Hobbit folk! But then again, he always did dream of far off lands when he was younger. Bilbo sat down his now-empty teacup, before leaning back onto the sofa.

“What kind of adventure?” Bilbo ordered. While the thought of finally going on a quest with Gandalf seemed wonderful, he wasn’t stupid. He remembered his mother’s stories she would tell the fauntlings at parties. About facing trolls, and goblins, and Ents. How she and Gandalf seemed to get themselves into trouble at every twist and turn. And well, to be frank, Bilbo would like to know what he was getting into before agreeing to anything!

“An adventure to take back a long lost home, Me. Baggins,” Gandalf answered, smiling at Bilbo. “Gandalf, you’ve known me for years, Bilbo is just fine,” Biblo said, smiling back, “But what home are you talking about?”

“Did your mother ever tell you the story about the Lonely Mountain?” Gandalf asked. Bilbo’s eyes widened at the question. Of course, she did! It was his favorite tale to be told at bedtime. The vast halls of Erebor, the treasure trove overfilling with gold and jewels, the fire-breathing dragon! He would beg to hear the story over and over again. He would fall asleep to the tale, filling his dreams with hope that one day, the city would be restored to its former glory and he might visit it with his mother and father. Unfortunately, when his parents died, he refused to even think about the story. He soon forgot about the story altogether. “Gandalf, you can’t mean-,” Bilbo asked before Gandalf interrupted. “Yes, my boy. The time has come to reclaim Erebor once again. And I am afraid that I must seek your help,” Gandalf said, reaching into his coat, pulling out a piece of parchment. He leaned over to Bilbo, passing it off for him to read. Glancing once more at Gandalf, he unrolled the paper.

‘It’s a contract,’ Bilbo thought, looking at the elegant writing at the top of the scroll. It wasn’t made by any elves, the letters were too rigid, but not rigid enough for any man written-contract. No hobbit writes like this either, the letters are too flourished. And from what he remembered, Gandalf’s handwriting was nowhere near similar. That must mean, that although he has never seen a dwarf before, this must be a dwarven contract. For a...Burglar non-the-less. Bilbo looked back up at Gandalf, tilting his head somewhat in a silent question.

“The dwarves need a burglar, someone light on their feet who is fast enough to get in and out of places undetected. This burglar is vital in the success of this mission, without one everything will be for naught. And who better than a hobbit? A hobbit who has spent their fauntling years stealing pies from opened window seals, or silently running through the woods in a serious game of tag, or running off with cabbages from Farmer Maggot’s fields. A hobbit small enough to slip through cracks, and clever enough to talk their way out of any situation should they be caught. A hobbit like you Bilbo,” Gandalf said.

Bilbo looked back down at the contract, his mind a bit overwhelmed. “S-so let me get this right,” Bilbo said, stuttering a tad. “You need me to go on a quest half-way across middle-earth as a burglar with a group of random dwarves I have never met to take back their home in which a dragon has taken over. A-and that if I accept, I will be a vital part of the plan. Did I fail to mention anything?” Bilbo questioned, folding up the contract as he looked up to gauge Gandalf’s reaction. To his credit, the wizard at least seemed to mull over the question before shaking his head.

Bilbo sighed sharply, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand. He could feel a headache coming on from the stress from this conversation. He stayed like that for a few minutes, before unfolding the contract once more. He read through the contract carefully making sure he understood what he would be getting into. If dwarves were anything like the wealthy men in Bree, or his cousin Lobelia, then he would be positive to assume that there was a loophole or a hidden clause somewhere in it. It looked to be pretty straight-forward. He would accompany a group of dwarves, Thirteen in total, called the company to Erebor. Any profit made (whether it be clothes, gold, or food, etc.) would be split one-fourteenth between the group, which seemed fair. The company would not be responsible for his death, that did not sound good. Once reclaimed, Bilbo will be given his share (one-fourteenth) of any gold, gems, or jewelry he should wish for. That seemed a bit redundant, to be honest. He will probably be refusing the last statement if it comes to. But he digresses.

Bilbo pondered his options after he finished reading the contract. Should he refuse, he would stay at home, safe from the monsters that roamed out the haven of the Shire. He could stay with the other hobbits, take care of his garden, eat his seven meals a day, and go to bed without worrying about being eaten or killed. Just like every day. 

Or, he could sign the contract. Gandalf was right. No man, dwarf, wizard, or even elf could rival a hobbit’s stealth when they tried. And hobbit ears were more sensitive than most, which meant that no-one short of another hobbit could sneak up on them. Of course, he could try and tell Gandalf to find another hobbit to help him, but that was unlikely. The only hobbits in Hobbiton that wouldn’t scrunch their noses up in disgust at an adventure would be his Took relatives. But with his grandfather being the Thain, he or his cousins could not take up the quest. They can’t risk losing the respect of the folk of Hobbiton, there would be an uproar! 

And also, if he accepted, he could finally meet dwarves! Hopefully, like the ones his mother would join with on adventures. He could have the chance to travel middle-earth, visit the world where his ancestors once roamed, experience the wonders of nature that every hobbit longed for. He could have the chance to give a home to those who lost it. He could help change many lives for the better.

That decided it. Bilbo stood up, walking through the hallway to his father’s study. Bilbo grabbed his quill, rolling the parchment out as he dipped the quill in ink. And with a few strokes, it was official. He was now in contract with the company.

Bilbo rolled the scroll back up, tying it back up with the ribbon. The thudding of footsteps drew his attention to the door of the study. Gandalf was crouching as he smiled at Bilbo, reaching his hand out for the contract. Bilbo smiled widely at him in return, gladly handing the contract over.

Gandalf stayed for a bit longer, the two of them catching up over another cup of tea before Gandalf had to leave. He had more business he needed to take care of before they left but he promised he’d be back, leaving his hat to Bilbo as a promise that he would need to return for it once he has finished. That made Bilbo feel much better about Gandalf leaving this time. He walked Gandalf outside, hugging him again. He waved good-bye to Gandalf as he walked down the dirt road. Bilbo turned to go inside before a shout stopped him.

“And Bilbo, one last thing. Your guest should be arriving tomorrow evening. They eat almost as much as a hobbit, and they tend to be quite messy. Just thought you might like a warning,” Gandalf shouted, before turning back around and making his way down the road. Bilbo entered his smial, going to clean up a bit before changing his mind and grabbing his money pouch. He grabbed his jacket on the way out, making sure to lock his door in case Sackville-Baggins saw him leave and decided to make her move. If what Gandalf said was true, then cleaning can wait. He had to head to the market to buy a lot of food for dinner tomorrow.


	3. Those Blasted Dwarves!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company Arrives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New challenge. Take a shot everytime you read shocked or surprised in the story😂

Bilbo huffed, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he glanced a the clock. 5:49. Bilbo sat the rolling pin he had been using previously at the end of the tabletop. He wiped the left-over flour on his hands onto his apron as he opened the oven. The smell of bread wafted through the air as checked on his honey rolls. Puffy clouds of bread sat in the cast iron skillet in the oven, sticky caramelized honey dripping off the sides. The rolls were one of his mother’s old recipes she was quite fond of. And for a good reason too. The dough is always hand-made, and the honey is made fresh; coming straight from Farmer Luciel’s beehive. It truly was a Took classic found at every family gathering. Bilbo had to sift through his mother’s glory box to find the book containing the recipe. '𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦,’ Bilbo mused.

Bilbo wrapped his hands in his apron before reaching into the oven to grab the skillet. He made quick work of it, trying not to burn his hands. Setting it onto the stovetop, Bilbo turned to grab the bowl of honey on the table. He brushed one last coat of honey on the top, bringing it to the pantry room to cool with the other dishes.

The pantry was crammed full with many different dishes. Chicken dishes steak dishes, beef dishes, taters of all sorts, bread, rolls, casseroles, with a few vegetable dishes thrown in here and there. From what he remembered from his mother’s stories, dwarves tended to eat more meat than vegetables. He threw a bit in there though for some variety. A separate table in the kitchen was chocked full of desserts ranging from cookies to cakes to pies. There was enough food here to last a hobbit two to three days, so it should be enough for every dwarf (and wizard) to eat their full. 

Bilbo made sure to snack on bits of food hare and there, so he wasn’t starving around supper. While it is normally rude to eat before the guest arrived, he wanted to make sure that he at least would have some food in his stomach in case there was no food left. Speaking of food, Bilbo snapped out of his thoughts at the chiming of his clock. He rushed back to the kitchen, grabbing the spread-out piece of dough from the counter, and laid it on top of the pie on the side end of the table. He swiftly trimmed the edges off, throwing the scraps out his opened kitchen window for any crows that might sweep by. He picked up the pan, sliding it into the oven.

Breathing out a sigh of relief Bilbo untied the apron, setting it onto the hook beside the oven. He looked back at the clock. 6:09. Good. He still had time to freshen up and tidy the smial. He walked briskly to his bedroom, looking forward to cleaning off the excess flour and filling that is sure to have coated his clothes.

~~~

A knock sounded at the door as Bilbo finished buttoning up his shirt. He took one last look in the mirror, making sure there aren’t any wrinkles somewhere on his outfit. He would admit after he finished his shower, that it had taken him some time to decide on what to wear. '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳-𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦-𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴?’ Bilbo worried. He eventually decided on a white button-up with brown pinstripes and brown pants with yellow suspenders. Nothing too fancy, and if need be he could just put on one of his waistcoats to dress up a bit more.

Bilbo rushed down the hall as to not keep his guest waiting. He grasped the door handle and after a deep breath, he opened the door. A small yelp escaped the hobbit as he ducked, missing the fist coming down to hit the now opened door.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that lad,” the dwarf said gruffly. Bilbo’s eyes widened a bit as he took in the dwarf. He was tall and very muscular. The top of his head was shaved, covered in tattoos instead of hair. He had two axes stapped in an ‘X’ on his back, with knuckle dusters covering his hands. The dwarf coughed into his hand, before bowing slightly. “Dwalin, son of Fundin, at your service,” the dwarf, Dwalin, said.

Bilbo bowed in return, “Bilbo Baggins, at your.” Bilbo stood up straight again as he took a step back, opening the door wider for Dwalin. Said dwarf nodded his head in thanks as he stepped into the warm hallway. Bilbo noticed Dwalin’s nose flared, his stomach growling as the scent of food floated through the smial.

“If you would like, I could take those from you,” Bilbo inquired, pointing at the axes. They seemed quite heavy. Dwalin looked down at Bilbo and grunted, but made no move to take them off. All right then. “That’s all right, just let me know if you change your mind. Now, if you could please follow me, I could use your help to bring the food from the pantry to the tables. I made quite a lot for everyone,” Bilbo urged. Dwalin grunted once more, nodding his head. “Lead the way.”

Assured, Bilbo turned around and led Dwalin down the hall to the pantry. As he was walking he could hear Dwalin mumbling under his breath, something about ‘hobbit-made placed too confusing’? He gave a breathy chuckle at that. Hobbiton, and like-wise hobbit smials, was made to keep non-hobbits out. After their ancestors drew back and hid away from the rest of the world, many made their town’s roads full of twists and turns as to confuse other creatures, for if there were an attack, the roads would distract others long enough for the hobbits to make their getaway. It was proven successful after the Fell Winter, for many more would have died if not for the confusing layout.

Bilbo subtly shook his head as the green door of the pantry came into sight. He straightened his back as he pulled the door open, relishing at the sound of Dwalin’s gasp. It truly was a sight to behold. The pantry was designed to keep food cool or warm depending on the need, so the food in the pantry was warm and fresh. And it smelled amazing. Bilbo turned back to Dwalin, stifling a laugh behind his hand at the awe-stricken dwarf. He cleared his throat gently, startling the dwarf.

“If you could just grab whatever you please, I will lead you to the dining room. The rest of the dwarves can help once they arrive,” Bilbo offered. Dwalin grunted gently, a small blush on his cheeks from being caught staring. “Right,” Dwalin said before moving to grab a tray of roasted chicken. Bilbo smiled, grabbing two platters of different cheeses and crackers for others to snack on. He led Dwalin to the dining room, pretending not to see Dwalin stealing food from plates once he thinks Bilbo isn’t looking. A few trips later, a knock sounded at the door once more.

“I’ll go get that. Grab a barrel of ale for the dining room, will you please?” Bilbo asked, leaving once Dwalin grunted, staring at a plate filled high with cheddar biscuits. Bilbo opened the door once more, bracing himself in case this dwarf was as impatient as Dwalin. He was pleasantly surprised to see no fist was aiming for his head. Instead, an older Dwarf was leaning on his cane, smiling at Bilbo. He was wearing long robes, with a long white beard that curled at the end.

“Balin, son of Fundin, at your service,” the dwarf bowed. ‘𝘚𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯? 𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴,’ Bilbo noted. Bilbo greeted Balin the same as Dwalin, letting him in the door. “Would you like me to take that for you?” asked Bilbo, pointing to the cane. “Ah, no thank you, laddie. I’m sure I can manage with it,” Balin said. Bilbo nodded, leading Balin through the halls. “Your brother should be in the pantry or the dining room. We could use your help with setting the table,” Bilbo said. Balin perked up slightly at the mention of his brother. He nodded in agreement as Bilbo took him to the Pantry. Bilbo led Balin into the pantry, giggling as he saw Dwalin eating a few biscuits from one of the trays.

Dwalin at least had the nerve to at least look bashful, before seeing Balin. He dropped the biscuit in his hand as he walked over to his brother. Bilbo smiled as they conversed, it was evident that they had not seen one another in a long time based on the few words he depicted from their rapid speech. Although, he would admit that his eyes did widen from shock when they butted heads. He did not have time to mull it over though as another knock struck the door. Bilbo slipped out of the room unnoticed as Dwalin showed Balin around a bit.

At the door were two young dwarves. They looked even younger than himself! Why would they be going on a trip such as this? Bilbo did not let his confusion show on his face as the two dwarves, Kili and Fili, introduced themselves. They even bowed at the same time, eliciting a breathy chuckle from the hobbit. He let them in after he introduced himself, and offered to take their weapons as well. This time they actually handed their weapons over. Dwalin refused to hand over his weapons, and Bilbo could understand why. The way Dwalin carried himself to the way he interacted with others he did not know showed hints that he has seen war before. From what Bilbo had gathered in the short while he has known Dwalin, the man was very unnerved there. He was paranoid, he refused to sit with his back to any openings (whether it would be windows or doors, etc), and he refused to let Bilbo walk behind him. That, along with the scars that Bilbo could see through the man’s armor and many weapons he carried (concealed or not) Bilbo knew that the man had been in battle before. It was the same way the rangers from Bree, the ones who helped fight the goblins, acted. Even Balin seemed very sharp, his eyes followed Bilbo as he gave him a tour, taking in everything. So the fact that Fili and Kili just handed their weapons over to a stranger while walking through uncharted territory showed trust that came with naivety.

Bilbo hollered for Balin, asking the man to show Kii and Fili where they could help as he went to find a place for their weapons that were currently weighing his arms down. Balin readily accepted, leading Kili and Fili away. Bilbo could faintly hear Balin scolding them for dumping their weapons on him ‘like he was a coathanger, and not their host’ as Balin stated. Bilbo smiled as he walked to the spare bedroom, dumping their gear there, deciding it a problem for later. He let out a small sigh as he heard the knocking on his door once more. He walked to the door, ready to greet another dwarf before shouting a bit in shock, barely managing to step out of the way of a dwarven dog pile. After a few moments, he tore his eyes away to look up at Gandalf who was standing behind the pile, looking sheepish. The dwarves exclaimed as they tried to untangle their limbs, failing and falling again.

Bilbo sighed. This was going to be a long night.

~~~  
Bilbo internally groaned as he stepped outside into his garden. He hoped his escape went unnoticed for just a few minutes; just long enough for him to clear his head. His stress level was through the roof after he watched the energetic group of dwarves toss his mother’s fine china around singing about that’s what ‘Bilbo Baggins Hates.’ He does admit that he did overreact a tad. The dwarves were being careful with the china, even when throwing it. But no one can blame him. It was a wedding gift from Lord Elrond himself to his parents. It was one of the only things he had left from them, and one of the only things he owned from the mystical elves he roamed the woods for in his fauntling years. But he digresses.

As Bilbo sat outside, he couldn’t help but reminisce some more from when he was a fauntling. It seemed that the few things Bilbo learned about dwarves from his mother’s stories were true. They were loud and rambunctious, had terrible table manners, and don’t get him started on the plumbing. Bilbo shuddered thinking about how he is going to fix that problem. But he also learned that they are care-free and fun to be around. He felt more alive just being around their chaotic nature. And, it was nice to have some new company. It got lonely just living there by himself. Even if he had no food left.

The creaking of his garden gate drew him out of the past. He looked at the gate, standing up to introduce himself as another new dwarf entered Bag End. This dwarf had long black hair, like all of the others, and blue eyes. He was covered from head to foot in dark fur, making him practically impossible to see at night. He also took care to tread lightly, his footsteps light as he walked down the stone pathway. If not for his hobbit ears, he wouldn’t have heard him in the first place.

“Hello,” Bilbo called out, hiding his laugh at the jump of the dwarf. “Welcome to Bag End. Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” Bilbo bowed. The dwarf shook off his surprise, although Bilbo noticed he was still jumpy. He cleared his throat, bowing himself. “Thorin, son of Thrain, at yours.”

Bilbo stood up, drawing a surprised breath at his name. '𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘳,’ Bilbo thought. He watched as Thorin looked around, his eyes locking onto anything that made a sound. He was attentive and stood stiff as if expecting an attack. Thorin looked back at Bilbo, circling him as he sized him up. “So you’re the Burglar that Gandalf has chosen. Tell me, what weapon do you wield?” he asked, stopping in front of Bilbo once more. Bilbo took a second to truly think about it as Thorin waited. “Well, I’m quite skilled with a sword and daggers, and I can shoot a bow and arrow fairly accurately. But that’s about it,” Bilbo finished. Based on the impressed look on Thorin’s face, it seemed that he expected less of the hobbit. ‘𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥,’ Bilbo thought, '𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.’

Bilbo nodded his head to the door, walking past Thorin. He saw him tense up as he walked behind him, one hand reaching for a dagger strapped to his thigh. Bilbo frowned, making a mental note to try and walk in front of him from now on. “ We should head inside to finish this conversation,” Bilbo said, glancing behind Thorin at the hobbit staring out of their window at the two of them. “If you will follow me, I will take you to your friends. Everyone else has arrived, and I made sure to set a plate for you aside.” Thorin nodded, waving his hand for Bilbo to lead the way.

Bilbo took a deep breath, knowing that blowing up at Ori who did nothing wrong would do nothing to help the situation. Bilbo couldn’t help but mumble under his breath as he let out a frustrated sigh. “Yvannah, give me patience for if you give strength I will need bail gold too,” he prayed under his breath. He ignored the suppressed laugh of Ori or the almost silent chuckle of Thorin in favor of glaring at the group of Dwarves.

“What is this!” Bilbo demanded, raising his voice a bit for it to be heard over the music and laughter. The room turned silent as the group turned and faced the silently raging hobbit, with their king and their youngest friend silently laughing behind him. “I’m gone for five minutes, and this happens? There are cups spilled on the floors, plates strewn about on the furniture, food hanging off of the chandelier! Two of you are dancing on the table, for Yvanah’s sake!” Bilbo said, his voice growing louder the more he took in the room. His eyes wandered over the guilty faces of the party before becoming fixed onto the wizard in the corner, sharpening like daggers as he made eye contact. “And you!” Bilbo said, marching up to the wizard.

“𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙛 '𝙒𝙝𝙦𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢? 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚!” Bilbo yelled, not realizing he started shouting in Hobbitish. “𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜? 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚, 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣? 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚!”

Bilbo shook as he gasped for breath, his small rant over as he stared at the wizard’s guilty face. Gandalf wouldn’t even look him in the eye as he tried to calm down. After a few minutes, he turned around, storming out of the room as he walked down the hall looking for something to distract him from the mess that is the dining room. He eventually settled on getting the guest rooms set. Sure, while Gandalf might have known how important everything there was, the dwarves did not. To them, it was just a few measly things that could be easily replaced in time. He wasn’t going to kick them out or punish them to sleep in the halls just because he was angry at them for doing something they did not know was wrong.

He also set up his room, deciding that he would sleep in his armchair. He only had two bedrooms, and there were thirteen dwarves plus Gandalf. It wouldn’t be possible to shove them all into the cramped guest room. He could sacrifice one night of sleeping on his armchair if it meant his guests were comfortable. After everything was set he started to think about who should go where. He decided that families should be together. Fili and Kili said earlier when he was talking to them that they were nephews to the leader of the company, Thorin. Dwalin and Balin are brothers. So are Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur. They can all share Bilbo’s room as it is bigger than the other one. Nori, Dori, and Ori, along with Gloin and Oin will share the guest room, along with Gandalf.

Deciding that his set-up was the best course of action, Bilbo made sure to add enough pillows and blankets to each room before grabbing one for himself. He walked to the living room, setting his blanket on his chair before heading to the dining room to inform the dwarves of the sleeping arrangement.

Bilbo arrived at the dining room, his jaw-dropping open at the sight of the clean dining room. The room was scrubbed from head to toe, plates put up, and messes cleaned. Even the doilies were back to perfect condition! He laughed slightly out of shock at the sight of his back-to-normal smial. He walked out of the room, looking for the dwarves to thank them. His eyes landed on the pouch in the middle of the table, along with a piece of parchment, He walked over, opening the pouch, seeing a large number of gold coins inside. Looking at the parchment, he was his signature signed at the bottom. His contract. His smile fell as he barely caught the sound of the back door closing. Those blasted dwarves! Bilbo ran across the house, pouch, and parchment in hand as he reached the back door. He threw open the door, startling Gloin who was only a few steps from the door itself. The company turned around, eyes blown as they stared at the hobbit. “Where do you think you’re going?” Bilbo asked, looking over the group. After a few seconds of shocked silence, Fili stepped up, ignoring the call of his brother. “Our apologies, Master Burglar. You let us into our home and we trashed it. Gandalf has informed us of our wrong-doings, and we have done our best to right the wrongs we caused. We will now be leaving before we overstay our welcome. We thank you for the food and hospitality,” Fili finished. He turned around, the company following him down the stone path to the dirt road before he grunted, something hitting the back of his head. He looked down, seeing the pouch full of coins at his feet. “And who said you overstayed your welcome?”

The company turned back to Bilbo, who was now leaning on the door staring at them. Bilbo was silently thanking all those years of conkers, or that would have been awkward to have missed Fili’s head and have it fly past him. “I thought that it was up to the host to decide when the guest overstayed their welcome or went too far as to get kicked out. And I don’t know if you realize, but I have said nothing of the sort. Also,” Bilbo said, holding up the contract, “You forgot I signed this. I signed up for this. My mother told me stories of her dwarven friends. I knew what I was getting into. And yes, it was wrong the way you disrespected my parent’s things, you had no idea. Things like doilies and plates can be replaced, so you thought nothing of it. I understand. And while I understand your concern, it does not matter. I do not hold you accountable, and I am the only one who should if I did so.” Biblo took a deep breath, staring at the smiling or in awe faces of the dwarves. “And another thing. While I thank you for wanting to repay me, that in and of itself was disrespectful.” That got a flinch from the group, along with some confused murmurs. “Hobbits are very simplistic people. We like food, home, and family. Hobbits are very respectful and hospitable because we enjoy being. To offer us something like money to us for payment is a very big insult. Sure, some people pay thanks with fabrics or new garden seeds, or a toy for the fauntilings. That’s perfectly fine, but anything like gold is a big slap to the face that will most likely get you thrown out on your bottoms faster than you can say sorry. Even jewels are on thin ice, depending on the situation.”

The dwarves were now staring at him with their eyes blown wide. Hobbits and hobbit-culture really was a secret from most of the world, huh? Gandalf seemed to think the same thing, smiling over the heads of the company. “Come back in. I have already set up the rooms, and it is cold out tonight. I only have two rooms so I have sorted you the best I could without too much overcrowding.” 

Bilbo walked back to the dining room, giving the dwarves space to enter again. He tapped Thorin on the arm as the rest filtered in, setting their stuff down again. “Did you eat yet? You left pretty quickly,” Bilbo whispered, quietly concerned about the dwarf. Thorin seemed surprised, for the millionth time that night, before smiling slightly at Bilbo. “No, I did not. But the others said that your food was delicious,” he complimented. Bilbo frowned, leaving a confused Thoringin the doorway as he entered the kitchen, grabbing the plate hidden in the oven. He walked back to a confused Thorin, handing him the plate before standing in front of the company.

“Alright, here’s the sleeping arrangement. Keep in mind that if you would like to change it go ahead. Thorin, Kili, Fili, Dwalin, Balin, Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur are all sleeping in my room since it is larger than the guest room and Gandalf takes up the size of two dwarves. Ori, Nori, Dori, Oin, Gloin, and Gandalf are in the guest room. Any questions or changes?” Bilbo asked. After a second, Kili raised his hand. “Yes, Kili?”

“Where will you sleep, Master Boggins?” Kili asked, tilting his head to the side. Bilbo ignored the messed up last name, smiling at Kili. “ I will be sleeping in the armchair in the living room,” Bilbo stated. He jumped at the uproar that started after.

“That’s not fair, it’s your house and bed!”

“Let us take the living room, you should get to sleep in your bed!”

“You shouldn’t be forced to sleep in the living room in your own house while we steal the rooms!”

Bilbo stepped back as they got louder, slightly overwhelmed. Gandalf seemed to catch onto this as he stood taller, the shadows swirling around him as his voice boomed over the group, forcing them to quiet down. Bilbo sighed in relief at the quiet. He quietly composed himself, looking back at the group. “Thank you for your concern, but it is quite alright. The armchair is comfy, and I have slept in it before. As your host, I could not take one of the bedrooms and sleep well knowing that others will be forced to sleep in uncomfortable places like the living room or hall. And you’re not stealing anything, as I have given up my rooms to you. So please, if you will stop fighting and gather your things, I will take you to your rooms.” Bilbo raised a hand to stop anymore protesting from the group. “You will not change my mind. Please do not argue anymore.”

The company grumbled as they collected their stuff, Bilbo walking back to Thorin as they did so. He took Thorin’s now empty plate, setting it into the sink to wash later before leading the groups to their rooms. He made sure they were settled in before grabbing a pair of clothes from his room quickly to change in a separate bathroom. He got comfy in his chair as the clock struck midnight. They had a lot of talking about the adventure tomorrow, but that could wait. Bilbo felt his eyes droop as he drifted off, dreaming of far off lands as he fell into a peaceful slumber.


	4. AN

Alright, I need to post this. So over the past week, I've been drifting away from the Hobbit fandom and back to the HP fandom. It happens all the time. And I've just had no motivation to do anything. Any chapter I try to put out doesn't sit right with me. And one important thing for me that's always been important was posting good chapters. 

This is NOT to say that I'm quitting this story. Definitely not. I'm working on the next chapter rn. But it will take longer to get out. And I've realized something. This posting schedule is not good for me. I've been fixing my sleep schedule, which is good for me, not this story. I can't write in the day (my family likes to barge in too much) so night's been the only time to write.

Top that all off with the many things my family does (movie nights, family dinners, constant cleaning and babysitting my sisters while they're away [which is a lot]). Plus with everything that happened this week (power went out, tornado watch, our druggie neighbor tried to break in) it's been rough.

So I'll still post chapters, but they will take longer as I try to sort everything out. O don't need to post constant chapters ALL THE TIME, I just need to post good chapters EVERYTIME. Once I start to drift back to the Hobbit fandom, expect a fluctuate in chapters!

Anyway, the new chapter will hopefully be out soon. Bye! And thank you all for your support on this story and the kudos


End file.
